


to Cede Control

by livebynight



Series: You and Ivar [2]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Choking, Dom/sub, F/M, Gags, Restraints, Roughness, Slapping, spitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-09-23 15:38:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9663884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livebynight/pseuds/livebynight
Summary: Ivar surprises you with his submissive side.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, with my incessant need to write Ivar drabbles, I've decided to make a series given that I imagine the female character being the same person each time. If I go outside of that, it'll be specifically mentioned and not part of the series.
> 
> But anyway, thanks for reading, hope you enjoy!

 

“Why is it you pretend not to know how to fight?”

You rolled your eyes, nocking yet another arrow to your bow; outstretched your arms and took aim. Releasing a breath, you loosed, letting the arrow soar into the deer just over twenty meters away. It was one of many that were strung across the open field; all with a variety of bows or axes lodged in their skulls.

“I do not know how to fight, Ivar.”

“Bull shit,” he cursed. You could hear him spit at the ground beside him. As you nocked your next bow, you spared a glance at him. Ivar lounged on the ground even though there was a thin layer of snow on it, his back against a fallen trunk of a tree. His head cocked to the side, appraising you.

You took aim again, lining up to shoot the spot between the deer’s eyes. But upon release, the bow landed above its eye instead. You scoffed, partly blaming the miss on Ivar’s distraction, yet the other part conceded it was your lack of skill’s doing.

“Come here,” Ivar called. You looked at him confused, only to find he was pulling himself onto the tree trunk to sit upon. He hunched over with elbows on his knees, batting his fingers at you to bid you to him. The cloak he wore was heavy, the hood of it pulled over his head far enough that it left an intimidating gloom in his eyes. With a sigh, you grabbed another arrow and strode over.

“Your elbow is too weak,” he commented as you approached. He placed his hands on your hips to turn you back around, facing the deer. “It is ruining your follow-through.”

In this position, Ivar was slightly below you, but it did nothing to deter him as you flexed your arms again, pulling the bow tight. One of his hands remained at your hip while the other trailed up your back, then down your forearm to clasp at your elbow. He shifted you up and slightly backward; you didn’t think it much a difference but Ivar historically had impeccable aim and so you trusted him.

“Keep it,” he instructed quietly.

You did, loosing the arrow. In a moment, the target was struck and you couldn’t contain the smile that spread across your face. You turned to Ivar and offered him a bow, admiring the smug grin on his own.

“You are a fine teacher, Boneless.”

“I learn from the best, y/n,” he countered. Your mouth fell open at the remark, just as he tossed a sword at you. You hadn’t even noticed he was armed. Reflexes took charge and you caught it at the hilt, though you probably should have dropped it.

“Never held a sword either, hm?” He teased, a smirk playing at his lips.

You scowled at him, holding the sword at your side. “I am not sure what you are playing at, Ivar.”

Your whole life you were meant to keep to yourself, not make a display of anything, let alone retain the ability to fight. You had trained on your own – for years now – after mere observation of others. It was always just a hobby, nothing to amount to something. You should’ve known Ivar was too smart not to notice the physicality as he had done much of the same when he was younger, albeit for different reasons. Being as intimate with him as you were was sure not to help, either.

“Come on, then,” he said cheerfully, ignoring you. He drew his own sword into his hands, tossing it playfully back and forth, palm to palm.

“I am not going to try and fight you,” you said plainly – then gasped as he smacked your hip with the broadside of his blade, strong enough just to sting. “ _Ivar_!”

He laughed at you then, purposefully riling you up. “I don’t – _ah_!” He smacked you again, much harder this time and you dropped your bow to the ground. Ivar merely enjoyed your pain.

“Ivar, I don’t want -” he struck again, except this time you blocked him. He responded immediately with another strike, drawing the sword over his head to come from another angle, and you blocked that as well. He was visibly pleased at the result.

You tried to resign yourself, but the look of satisfaction on his face was infuriating. So, you swung at him. His blade instantly collided with yours and you swung again, driving forward. For a moment, there was no other sound you heard than the clang of metal on metal; Ivar was fast – too fast for you, so instead you tried lunging, intending to knock him off his seat.

Fist tight around the hilt, you pivoted to his chest, only to have him catch your wrist and spin you around. Momentum sent you into his lap and you grunted. Ivar had your arms pulled across your chest in a matter of seconds, his laughter echoed in your ear.

“I think you make this too easy,” he drawled. Moving swift, his palm connected hard with your spine and you fell to the ground, air punched out of your chest. You glared at him from over your shoulder, pitching a growl when he rolled his jaw and twirled his sword through his fingers, spinning it back and forth across his torso as if it had the lightness of a feather.

You lunged again, only to be blocked thrice and endure a backhand from him, sending you to the ground once more. Ivar’s laughter made your blood boil and giving up the sword, you charged at him, throwing all your weight into his chest.

It was a hard tumble backward, sending him over far enough that only his feet dangled over the tree trunk. You had taken Ivar by surprise and quickly disarmed him, tossing his sword aside. You reached for his wrists next and pinned them down on either side of his head. The feeling of triumph was nearly impossible to contain.

“I win?” You asked breathlessly. The both of you panted hard, but Ivar still found it in him to smirk at you, licking his lips. His eyes left your face to roam down your body, only stopping once they reached the spot where your hips met his.

“Doesn’t feel quite like that for me,” he remarked, finally dragging his eyes back up to meet your gaze. He lifted his head off the ground, lips puckering in attempt to capture yours, but you pulled just out of his reach, inciting a hiss.

You struggled not to let your smile show through. Instead, you let go of his wrists and leaned back to sit on him, crossing your arms. “I may just have to hit you, Ivar.”

It was delivered as a serious threat, but Ivar’s eyes practically _glittered_ at the mention of it. His lips parted to let out a long, quiet sigh. It stirred something in you, giving you that feeling of wanting to make him crumble beneath you again.

Shifting on his lap, you let your arms drop, planting your hands on his shoulders so you could lean over him. “Do you… _want_ me to hit you, Ivar?”

You had heard of some men who liked this sort of thing, though, you had not tried it yourself – never would you expect Ivar to be one of them. You imagined his quick temper would be impossible to contain at the frustration of not being in control. And yet… he drew his bottom lip between his teeth and nodded.

Had he been hit like this before? Was it worth risking his anger? You sat up at once, contemplating. It was irresponsible, possibly dangerous with Ivar but… the pleading look that pulled on his face was not something you found able to deny, either. 

It wouldn’t be your hardest, but you knew he could take it. You reared back and swung your open palm across his face, the smack loud enough to echo in the field surrounding you. The groan he made was almost simultaneous with it as his head whipped to the side. His arms rose from the ground and he was grabbing you by the waist, grinding you down into him just to roll his hips under yours.

The reaction was enough to light up your face, make your stomach fill with butterflies; now your fingers tingled, wanting to see how far you could get him to go. You tutted at him, laying your hands over his – his hold was hard enough that his braces were digging into your skin through your shirt.

“Now, now, Ivar,” you purred. You used his hold on you to perch over him again and he finally straightened his head to look at you. “I did not say you could touch me.”

Ivar bared his teeth in a smile that gave you chills. You weren’t sure what you expected, but slowly, Ivar pried his fingers from you. Drew his hands back over his head to settle on the ground.

You appraised his cheek, admiring the red that now bloomed over it. You trailed a finger over his skin, half tempted to smack it again, when –

“Is my brother bothering you?”

Abruptly, you sat up, finding Ubbe on the other end of the clearing. You went to move off Ivar, but he made a fist over your thigh, holding you in place.

“Does it look like I have the high ground, Ubbe?” He snarled.

Ubbe shook his head with a chuckle and strolled over, much to your embarrassment. The position you were in was scandalous. Ivar did nothing to help by not letting you go. “He was just teaching me,” you blurted out, “How to use a sword.”

He peered suspiciously at the both of you; it was written on his face that he knew there was more to the story.

“How surprising,” he commented, focusing more on Ivar. “No one has ever had the patience to tolerate his lessons before.”

“Was there something you needed, dear brother?” Ivar asked. Yes, please speed this up, you thought, grateful for his interruption. He still wouldn’t let you budge from his lap and you were certain your face was now redder than his own cheek.

“The brothers are wanted in the Hall for the Thing. That includes you.” He averted his gaze to look at you once more, a lopsided grin on his face. “Once you are done with your lesson, of course.”

That was the nail in your coffin. You scoffed, looking far away from him to hide your face, only relieved once you heard him retreat from the pair of you. Once more, you tried to rise from Ivar’s lap, only to have him grab the front of your shirt and pull you down again.

He sat up, leaning in close enough to you that the tips of your noses touched. The way he looked at you eased your troubled mind – yet again, too easily. Something you were getting worryingly accustomed to.

“We will finish this later,” he promised. And believing him, you nodded.


	2. Chapter 2

 

Something in the cabin stirred you from your sleep. It must have been the middle of the night, feeling like you had retired for the day hours ago. Half turning in your tiredness, you struggled to glance about the room; it was getting brighter and brighter as candles were lit and your eyes still needed adjusting. There was a soft dragging sound on the wooden floor.

Ivar.

You turned back over, relaxing. Though it had been many years, it was impossible to count the number of times you woke up like this – to Ivar sneaking in while you slept. You’d wake to dozens of candles lit around the room, while he sat by your bedside, warming his hands with one of them.

“What are you doing here, Ivar?” you asked softly, still trying to fully awaken.

It was so quiet in the room, your eyes popped open again, wondering if you’d merely just been dreaming.

“I told you we are not finished.” He finally said.

At once, you felt your stomach plummet and you turned over to look at him. It was not that you doubted him, he stubbornly stuck to his word. It was that you still could not grasp that any of this was happening between you to begin with. He sat across the room, rubbing his hands together over a single flame. It cast dark shadows over his striking face; his blue eyes glinted as they bore into you. His braids had since been undone and his hair fell loose, almost to his shoulders.

Sitting up, your lips parted as you gulped; you were certain he was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

“Why are you so far from me, then?” You asked tentatively. It took your all to keep your voice from quivering; you wouldn’t let yourself falter tonight. Ivar straightened, tilting his head back as if awaiting instruction. “Come here.”

He did as he was told. Crawling slowly across the floor to you. There were few people in his life he had ever allowed to stare openly at him as he crawled. You were one of them. Your breathing became more and more rapid the closer he got, feeling wide awake now.

As he reached your bedside, you greeted him, running your fingers through his hair and over his head. Ivar nearly keened, leaning into your hand and his eyes slid closed. His hair was slightly damp, you noticed. As was his cloak. It must have been snowing again.

“Take off your cloak and shoes, and get on my bed.”

Again, he followed your word. You scooted to the other side of the bed to make room for him. He smoothly pulled himself up, then lay beside where you stay seated. You gave him a once-over; his tunic was much too large for him, like he was dressed for bed. You grasped the hem of it and pulled it upward, revealing a small bit of his stomach. Shifting closer to him, you ran your fingers over his belly, just barely grazing under the waist of his breeches.

“Y/n,” Ivar murmured. You found that he was intently watching you, brows wrought in concentration.

“Stay quiet,” you ordered, and – pulling up your nightdress - swung a leg over him to straddle his waist. His hands curled into fists around the pillows when you swooped down to kiss him, taking heed from the last time he touched you without permission. You held onto his face, taking time to suck each of his lips between yours. You took advantage when he groaned and pressed your tongue into his mouth.

His reciprocation was passionate with a fervor you had found yourself craving endlessly. The more his tongue tangled with yours, the heavier you could hear him begin to breathe, the more you wanted him.

You had to tear yourself away before getting lost in him. There was more purpose than kissing tonight.

“Unless you mean to beg,” you added in your retreat.

Ivar’s eyes clenched shut, making you smile before diverting your attention elsewhere. You tugged at the laces of his tunic, pulling it apart as much as it would go so you could see his chest. The garment was large enough on him that it bared most of his shoulders, and just barely his nipples. Your mouth watered at the sight of him and so you sated your thirst, pressing a chaste kiss to his collarbone before moving to his neck. A strangled sound escaped him as your tongue ran across the bob in his throat, settling on running small circles beneath his earlobe. He jerked underneath you once you bit down.

You wanted to see his face then, but his neck was currently more enticing. Switching between your teeth and tongue, you left a line of splotches down the length of it until reaching his chest. You shifted lower on his body, ready to focus on that now.

Lips roamed over his muscles and you soon found yourself rocking your hips over him. It was hard to hold back when he surrendered like this to you. Ivar grunted, starting to writhe underneath and it only encouraged you further, made you grind harder against him. You sought out his nipple, tugging his tunic aside to capture it between your lips. It became a hard bead in your onslaught, and you ran the flat of your tongue over it before giving it a sharp nip with your teeth.

Ivar hissed and jerked again and when you peered up at him, his jaw was slack, pupils dilated, filled with ecstasy as he watched. You moved to the other side, performing the same ministrations over the neglected nipple. This time, as you clenched your jaw around him, you slid your hand between your bodies to palm at his crotch.

Too much for Ivar, apparently, as he finally let go of a pillow to grasp painfully tight around your hip.

You were surprised by your own swiftness. At once, you had released his nipple and there was a sharp _crack_ as you slapped his face.

Ivar’s growl was loud, nearly frightening, and you half expected him to attack you then. You waited until he released you, pressed his face into your bedsheet, back arched upward. And after taking a few deep breaths he settled down. That should have been your warning but you were too far in now, you would take advantage of him for as long as possible, no matter the cost.

Shifting again, you moved to hold yourself over his legs and grasped his breeches. It was easy to get them undone and Ivar even raised his hips to help you. You pulled them down far enough to free his cock. He was only partially soft, something that was quick to change as you ran your tongue up the length of it.

His body visibly shuddered underneath you, making you smile and do it again. His cock straightened right before your eyes, so you took the tip in your mouth, ran circles around it with your tongue as you made a fist around his girth.

The sounds Ivar made were strangled in his chest and clearly becoming harder for him to contain; bedsheets would be lost to his gripping and tugging at this rate.

You took him whole in your mouth, swallowing him down, only to hear him cry out. It was an interesting change in position; you were usually the one at his disposal, flailing about at his very whim. Feeling this power now, you began to understand why he enjoyed it so much.

A rhythm was set between your mouth and hand. Your head bobbed over his cock, then released to tug at his head with your lips. Your hand stroked over him, alternating with your sucking until Ivar was straining not to thrust into you.

“Y/n,” he muttered in a desperate voice you did not recognize.

There was a soft pop as you released him from your mouth. “What did I say, Ivar?”

“Y/n, please,” he started to plead, keeping to instructions. “I can’t -” his words were choked off to another moan as you ran the pad of your thumb quickly back and forth over his tip.

“What was that?” You teased.

He growled again, perching himself on an elbow to force his eyes open and glare at you.

“I won’t -” You interrupted him again, teasing him with your tongue. “I need to be inside – _ah_ …”

You didn’t care to listen as you continued. You wanted to finish him like this.

“ _Please_ , y/n,” he pleaded once more. Raising your eyes to his, you nearly melted. His chest and face were entirely flushed in bright crimson. He was struggling to ease his breathing and you nearly pitied him.

“You want to touch me, Ivar?” You asked plainly.

He whined, practically collapsing down on his back again. “ _Yes_ ,” he moaned.

You finally released him, moving to sit up and over him. His eyes were lost, roaming over anything other than you. “Ivar,” you called, getting his attention back. “Touch me.”

He grabbed you suddenly underneath your armpits and pulled you over the length of him. When you were certain there was nowhere else to go, his hands bound behind your knees, pulled and pushed till you were poised over his head.

“Ivar, what -” It was your turn to be cut off as you cried out. You couldn’t see him, blanketed in your nightdress, but suddenly his mouth was on you, buried between your legs. It took all your strength to hold yourself over him; your mouth fell open, gasps tumbling out in rapid succession as he laved at your cunt with such a pace, you were likely to keel over.

You squealed once he took your clit in his mouth. It was like he was pouring every ounce of his frustration through his mouth, only to have you cave around him. Your hips gyrated just from the force of him and soon you were coming, completely unable to control it, screeching as you did.

Hardly given a chance to recover, Ivar was flipping you over. He had you pinned on your back and forced your legs around him. You merely tried to keep up with his strength but he had become frantic, snarling above you till he had you in the position he wanted.

“Ivar, wait,” you gasped under him. He covered your mouth with his palm, then rammed into you so hard you were grateful for it. Your scream would’ve woken the whole city. His pace stayed just as rough and fast, and you were already sensitive enough for it to hurt.

He finally released your mouth, wrapped his hand around your throat with the other planted firmly above your shoulder. He used your body for leverage, his thrusts becoming merciless, driving into you again and again until you felt as if you’d be split in two. The look on his face made you sob and curl around him. His eyes appeared entirely black, he bared his teeth, grunting each time he sheathed himself inside you again.

Upon seeing your gaze, he smiled, dark and sinister, enough to make your belly turn with want again. This was the result of torturing Ivar.

His pace slowed just the slightest, relieving your throat only to clasp onto your face. His thumb and forefinger clenched painfully until your jaw was forced open. You quivered at the way he looked at you, then gasped as his lips curled and he spat into your mouth.

Perhaps this should have disgusted you. Perhaps it would have if it were anyone else but Ivar. But it _was_ Ivar and the things he made you feel scared you at times. You closed your mouth and swallowed, sobbing again to his pleasure, making his beaded eyes bright again.

After more abrupt jabs into you, his hips stilled between your legs and his flush returned, spreading quickly up his neck till he looked ready to burst. Teeth clenched shut, his lips flared, choking down his exclamation as he came. It seemed painful to him, the way he shuddered. He twitched uncontrollably until letting out a throaty exhale and finally relaxed over you.  

It took many minutes till each of you quieted down and he had yet to move from you. You had half a mind to be angry with him, knowing you would be sore for days. But your heart softened, feeling his lips and tongue roam over your chest. His fingers tangled in your hair as he heaved another breath. He shifted only to kiss your neck and jaw, and you realized he needed caring for, too.

You gathered him in your arms, straining to get you both on your sides. He was still partly inside you and you fastened your legs around him, pulling the blanket over to cover you both.

Ivar’s head was tucked into the nook of your neck and he let out a small whimper. You were to cherish him, pet his hair while he calmed down. As much as he hid from the world, you were certain he never felt like this before, nor posed himself so vulnerably. The tightness of his grasp around your waist confirmed as much.

After some time, you peered at him. He had been quiet but his hold on you hadn’t waivered so he must have been awake.

He met your gaze at once and you smiled at his innocence. You kissed him, then. Meant to be chaste until he held you to it, kissing you back until your eyes rolled and you felt dizzy. It was back to heavy breathing again once he released you.

“I think,” you started, trying to raise his spirits, “Next time I must restrain you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this as much as I did Xx.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have an unplanned part three to this, special thanks to ifinkufreaky.

Another night lost to Ivar.

This time started on the floor. You had lost track of time entirely, the pair of you kissing like lovesick animals, fearing death if they were unable to grope just one more piece of flesh. It had been nearly a week since you… since you ‘controlled’ Ivar. That’s what you settled on calling it, anyway. There wasn’t another word you could find.

He had spent the night with you after, and almost each night since, though not like that. It was spent as it was now – kissing until you were lost in each other; his arms secured around your waist, your fingers digging into Ivar’s shoulders, the sounds of lips smacking and heavy breathing rapidly filling the room until you retired to the bed. It was becoming such a habit that you felt yourself anticipating it throughout the day. You knew it was unhealthy – you weren’t even sure if his feelings for you matched yours for him, or if he just enjoyed using you to get off – but with how grueling the days had been, working in the cold, it was one solace you allowed yourself.

In a rush to catch your breath, you forced yourself to pull away from him. Ivar hardly resisted, cheeks flushed to catch his own, but he didn’t let go of you either.

“I want you to do it again.” He said suddenly.

“What is that?” You asked, not understanding right away.

“You know what…” he drawled. He pressed his forehead on yours, nuzzling you in a way that made you realize.

“Nothing has ever made me feel like that,” he had said the previous night. “It was unlike… I hardly sleep now, if you are not next to me.”

“Bull shit,” you had snapped.

Ivar had turned over to lay on his stomach, propped himself on his forearms as if that helped him sort out his thoughts. “I mean it. It was like I didn’t have to think after. I didn’t even feel anger.”

You had tried to keep a frown from forming on your face and Ivar had noticed. He was quick to run a hand over your cheek, one of the few times you felt he was earnestly soothing. “You mean no less to me no matter how we do it.”

You could recall the smile you forced, realizing it must have been selfish to make him feel guilty for not being angry for once, something that always plagued him. But you also couldn’t decide whether he was true to his word, or was saying what you wanted to hear only to get the same treatment now. He was no Ruler yet, but you knew he was certainly a master of manipulation.

“…don’t make me say it.” He said now.

Forcing all your intrusive thoughts away, you chewed on your lip, leaning farther away from him to brace yourself on your hands.

“Is that not my job?” You teased. At once, Ivar sat up straight. A smile began to pull at his lips. You ignored it, glaring at him instead before turning your line of vision to the bed. “Well?” You asked. You looked over him, then trained your eyes on the opposite wall. “You know what to do.”

He released you so suddenly, you had to mute the whimper in your chest at the absence of his arms. Ivar pulled himself to your bed and you only brought your attention to him once you were certain he was perched atop it.

You collected yourself and stood, pulling off the tunic you wore over your nightdress for extra warmth. Ivar smirked as you approached and it only tightened your reserve; you did not want him to smile. You wanted him to beg.

As soon as you sauntered over, you climbed into his lap. You were still tingling from him, and set not to lose that feeling. You found his lips without reluctance, melding yours over his in slow motion. He was practically frozen beneath you, waiting for instruction.

“Put your hands on me.” You demanded through kisses. He did as much, clasping both hands onto your hips, gripping tightly but it wasn’t enough. “No.”

Ivar paused, unsure of what to do. You dragged one of his hands to rest on your breast, the other just below the swell of your throat. If he was to be at your whim, you would reap the benefits, even if they weren’t always done to his own body.

“Don’t be gentle.”

In an instant, Ivar was snarling, his hand clamped around your throat and squeezed tight enough, it was a struggle to breathe. The suddenness of it had your eyes rolling, a heavy ache settled in the pit of your belly.

He reciprocated with his other hand, pinching through your dress to snag your flesh between his fingers until you twitched over his lap. You kissed him again, losing yourself in his mouth while his hands assaulted you. His grip around your throat didn’t waiver – your heart started to race from its lack of air, you felt your face warm from its flush, and his lips were sucking away what was left of your oxygen.

You tore your mouth from his to keep from passing out. He latched onto your dress in an effort to pull you back, only to stop short when the fabric ripped in his hand.

The glare you sent him had him pouting like a pup. Normally, this would soften your heart, but now, you gave him a sharp nudge with both hands on his chest.

“I did not tell you to do that,” you scolded. You disentangled yourself from him and sat at the edge of the bed, swinging your legs back and forth. “I want you on the floor.” For a moment, Ivar hesitated, he opened his mouth to speak but you interrupted with an order. “ _Now_.”

His eyes darted back and forth, but he did as told. Removed himself from your bed till he was back on the floor. You hiked your skirt up your thighs and spread your legs, pointing your finger in the space not far from between them.

With one hand, Ivar pulled himself to situate in front of you; the other held onto the binder of his legs, adjusting so he could sit comfortably. He needed no invitation to sidle between your thighs - his face resembled that of a starving man eyeing fresh meat. He started to run his hand along your calf and over your knee when you placed your foot on his shoulder, preventing him from going any further.

“I did not say you could use your hands.”

Ivar’s mouth fell open, his eyes darted to look up at yours but you would not give him a reaction. It was hard not to; he looked so eager and excited, all you wanted to do was reward him. You nudged him once more with your foot, before leaning back and sliding both of your legs over his shoulders. Both of your heels pressed into his back, urging him forward while you settled back on your elbows.

“Ivar.” You pressed, closing your eyes.

The heat of his breath coursed over you before his mouth did… then he was kissing your sex. As instructed, his hands were bereft of you, instead planted firmly into fists on the ground in front of him. You moaned as his mouth slid through the cleft of your lips, tossed your head back when he drove forward to fuck you with his tongue, applying enough pressure to make your eyes cross. You’d already been wet for him – now his mouth slid easily over you, his tongue flicked at your clit until you twitched and grasped a handful of his hair, forcing him harder against you.

“ _Ivar_ ,” you moaned this time.

He responded with a helpless groan, still sucking and using his jaw to rut at you. For a moment, you wanted to curse yourself for not allowing the use of his hands, but then you saw the way he was starting to struggle. His shoulders were beginning to tremble, and he kept having to shift his weight from one fist to the other. You were smiling until his frustrated little sounds reverberated in a way that had you arching back again.

Ivar growled and shook his head from side to side. He was pressing further and further until you were forced to lay back. You weren’t supposed to let him have that kind of control, but you’d let this one slip. You rolled your hips in tune with his mouth, moaning his name like a prayer over and over as he zeroed in on your swollen clit. You let go of his hair, desperately taking hold of your bedsheets. Your thighs started to tremble, nearly suffocating Ivar between them, you clenched your eyes shut, sucked in a gasping breath. It seemed an act of rebellion, how quickly his work on you was driving you to the brink. Something you would no doubt punish him for, but first…

You were lost in total bliss as he laved at you even faster. He had begun to growl quietly in time with his tongue, his breath was hot on your skin. Then his hands were grazing over your thighs, his nails raked under your dress, coaxed over your stomach, and the very feel of them sent lightning down your spine. Your hips bucked at him as you came and your eyes rolled back, trying to resist the scream in your throat.

Before you could even recover, you sat up so fast, your head spun from the blood rush. You grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked, forcing him back. He looked almost as surprised as you did; his eyes were wide and he scrambled to release you, wincing at the grip you had at his scalp.

“Get on the bed,” you enunciated, releasing him slowly.

Ivar sucked on his bottom lip pulling his face into another pout, but you could see the mischievousness in his eyes, jaw rolling as he resisted a smirk. It was quick to slacken when you slapped him. It wasn’t the hardest you could have given him, but it was enough to make him listen and he dutifully climbed onto the bed.

Running a hand over your face, you realized your limbs were shaking. You had to compose yourself before turning your attention to him again.

Ivar lay back now and you clambered over him. Your hands went straight for his tunic and pushed it up his torso. You ran your lips over each inch of his skin as it became exposed, sunk your teeth in a spot over his ribs as you continued. Ivar raised his arms so you could pull it off.

Instead, you pressed his arms down over his head. His hands fell just below the headboard, and upon reaching his wrists, you used his tunic to secure them. The headboard was composed of several thick slats of wood, useful now to weave the sleeves of his tunic through until he was completely bound. The friction of his braces made it all the more easy.

Ivar only noticed when he tried to pull back, but couldn’t.

Immediately, he became excitable. Tugging at his restraint until finding no budge.

“Y/n,” he whispered, eyes narrowed. “What are you-?”

“I told you I would restrain you, Ivar,” you purred. You smoothed your palms over the muscles of his arms, completely taut now. You gave him a small kiss and he whimpered when you pulled away.

“Y/n,” he said again, this time in a moan, hips bucking underneath you.

He cursed and clenched his eyes shut, shouting when you scraped your nails across his chest. You could only imagine the thoughts racing through his mind. He had no use of any of his limbs now, there was literally nothing he could do – he was entirely helpless.

“ _Shut. Up_.” You ordered, sitting back on him. The first thing you did was pull your dress off. Whether it was the room or Ivar himself, it had become hot enough that your sweat was seeping through the gown.

Naked atop Ivar, his eyes narrowed at you and he bared his teeth. His arms flexed over his head as if to touch you, growling angrily at the reminder he couldn’t. His biceps strained and the veins of his forearms jutted out as he fought to put his hands on you.

“Let me go,” he said through gritted teeth.

You scratched him once more in response, crouched to sink your teeth into his chest, just below his nipple. “No.”

His skin was pale enough that blood bloomed just under the surface of each spot your nails dug into. He was soon decorated in a series of beautiful crimson stripes.

Ivar moaned as you continued your onslaught. Your mouth dragged over his chest and each time he tugged at his restraint, you would slash him again, bite down until he was visibly shuddering beneath you.

“ _Please_ let me go,” he begged.

You smirked, looking up at him. The muscles in his chest and arms were straining as if he were determined to break free. The wood creaked against his strength, you could even notice it start to bend.

His neck craned as you lowered your head to kiss him. His lips were hungry and desperate now. Your teeth clashed while his tongue sought yours. It was as if Ivar thought the harder he could kiss you, the more likely you were to untie him.

You shook your head at him when you forced the kiss to end. Ivar looked a mess. The entirety of his torso was covered in scratches and splotches your teeth left marred on him. His chest was heaving, his breath coming in audible waves through his slacked jaw. His pupils were so enlarged, his bright blue eyes were beaded as he stared at you in anticipation; sweat dripped over his forehead. It was a sight that, for a moment, you let yourself behold.

“I could _kill_ you, woman,” Ivar murmured, snapping you out of your reverie.

The slap was almost immediate this time. Ivar’s head whipped to the side and he groaned, rolling his hips under yours. He wasn’t as quick to recover, his chest heaved as he began to pant.

You went straight for his breeches, getting them quickly undone and pulled his belt out from under him. Pulling it tight between both hands, you held it over Ivar’s head. He glared at the belt, then you.

“Open.”

If anything, his jaw clamped down even harder on itself.

“Ivar,” you trailed a knuckle down his face, leaning in close, “You want to fuck the life out of me right now… don’t you?” You asked in a gentle voice; already, his eyes began to light up and his lips parted. “Fuck me so hard, I scream for you…  hm?” Ivar whimpered, his jaw trembled. “Do you not wish for me to make you come? For you to _fill me_ with your seed?”

Ivar tugged so hard at the headboard, its resistance had him growling, baring his teeth like a beast. His whole body shook.

“Open.”

The smile that broke on your face was impossible to hold back when he complied. If looks could kill, then perhaps you would be drinking with the Gods that night.

The belt fit perfectly between Ivar’s teeth, though they appeared even sharper against the dark leather. You fastened it behind his head, then ran your fingers through his hair to make sure no strands would be caught. You finished with a kiss on his forehead for being a good boy. He whimpered and writhed as you retreated back down his body.

You returned to his breeches, pulled them down his hips, and your mouth fell open at the sight. His cock was solidly upright, the tip blooming with such a deep redness that it was nearly purple. He was already seeping, the evidence a small puddle at the base of his belly.

“ _Ivar_ ,” you moaned, looking up at him. How he was holding out for this long, in this state, was astounding.

He merely made a strangled sound and his teeth clenched down on his belt.

Without wasting more time, you grasped him in your hand. The sudden touch jolted Ivar, his hips bucked off the bed as he whimpered loudly. You could even hear his breath hissing through his teeth in sharp gusts.

You settled over his legs, starting to stroke him in your hand. Ivar was so sensitive. Each touch had him squirming, his cock twitched in your hand. You leaned in to run your tongue along his shaft, fascinated as his seed continued to drip from his head. You caught it with your lips, tasting him. It was bitter and salty, just as you felt Ivar should taste. Upon cleaning your lips, you wrapped them around his head and sucked.

Ivar’s groan was loud, it sounded like he was trying to say something but it was unintelligible. Your eyes grazed over him, watching his abs contract each time you swirled your tongue around him. Looking at his face, you almost pitied him. His brows furrowed, nearly black eyes were begging with every ounce of strength that was wasted with his voice. A line of spittle trailed from the corner of his mouth. He went completely slack when you swallowed him down.

You took him down as far as you could. Stretched your lips around him before sucking your way back up his length. Each time you took him, Ivar became louder and louder. He was starting to thrust his hips in time with you, seeking his finish.

Releasing him from your mouth, you kept the pace up with your hand. “Don’t come yet, Ivar.”

He was much better at listening now; he groaned weakly but you could see him nodding his head.

You kept hold of his cock and clambered over him till your hips were poised over his. Ivar’s head was craned again, staring at your body as you guided him to your entrance and lowered yourself onto him. It felt like the first time he had ever been inside you, dully stinging as he slowly filled you. It took some adjustment, but at once you started to ride him, set your hands on his chest to roll your hips over his.

Ivar threw his head back, sounding like he was sobbing through his belt. You watched his eyes clench shut and he struggled to catch his breath.

“Look at me,” you directed breathlessly. You moaned when he did so, rocked your hips even faster. You were certain you would remember Ivar like this for eternity. Bound and gagged, covered in blemishes that you adorned him with. For once it felt like he was completely yours and nothing else existed. The feeling made your heart race, you even felt light-headed as his eyes bored into you.

You thrust against him, sliding your hand further up his chest until settling over his neck. He was breathing so hard you could feel it through his skin.

“Can I?” You asked, but Ivar was already nodding. His moan was strangled as you squeezed, then moved faster and faster over him until his face was bright red, his eyes rolled back and his jaw started to slacken. Tremors coursed violently through his body until his back arched off the bed and he froze, just like that. You didn’t think he orgasmed… Worried something was wrong, you released his throat and stilled.

You couldn’t tell if he was trying to speak, or just making helpless noises, but he was completely falling apart. You removed the belt from his mouth and rubbed his face.

“Ivar, are you all right?”

His mouth hung open, nothing but whimpers coming out, but he managed to nod, relaxing back down on the bed.

“Look at me,” you said. Upon doing so, he smiled, almost unnaturally happy-like for Ivar, and his eyes were glassy, but he didn’t seem to be in any danger. Relieved, you kissed his lips and he weakly reciprocated.

“Can you get on top of me, Ivar?” You asked lightly, not sure if he had the strength. But he nodded again and looked up toward his restraint.

You left his wrists bound, but freed him from the headboard and in a second he had you turned over. The sudden weight of him on top of you was nearly enough to make you come again. He brought an overwhelming sense of safety and warmth, boxing you in when his bound hands clasped behind your head.

Much to your shock, he waited. Ivar stared down at you, eyes wide, hair framing his face, still fully inside of you and yet he did not move. Your heart skipped a beat and you were dizzy again, it was suddenly hard to breath.

“Let me turn over.”

Ivar did so, holding himself up with his forearms until you were lying on your stomach. His torso smothered you and he tucked his chin in the nook of your neck. Reaching under you, you found his cock again, led him to your entrance once more; his breath hitched in your ear.

“Fuck me, Ivar.”

He thrust back into you so swiftly, you couldn’t even make a sound. As he set a pace, he was moaning loudly in your ear. You closed your eyes and pressed your face into the bedsheet, and everything quickly faded until there was just Ivar on top and inside of you, your mind was clear save for his voice.

“Harder,” you pleaded.

This time you shouted out at the increase of his strength. It was hard enough it was bound to be hurting but all it did was make you tingle… You needed his hands on you.

Without opening your eyes, you found his wrists and untied them, dragged them between you and the mattress so he could hold you. Ivar wrapped both his arms around your ribcage and sunk his teeth into your neck.

You were deaf to yourself, quietly asking for him to go even harder and you sobbed when he did. You just needed him to consume you. All there was was Ivar and the white light that flashed behind your eyes as you came a second time.

Ivar stuttered over you, feeling you clench and spasm around him, and then you were telling him to follow. Almost simultaneously, he was groaning, spilling inside of you. There was so much of it, you could feel it seeping out of you to soak the sheets.

It was uncertain how long the two of you lay there like that, in a wet pile. How long it took for all your senses to be fully functioning again.

There was nothing more you would have loved to entertain than Ivar’s weight on top of you, but you couldn’t stay like this all night and you could already feel the effects of your oncoming crash.

“Ivar,” you said, checking to see if he was awake. He grunted somewhere over your shoulder. “Get off me.”

“No.”

“I want to take care of you.”

He was quiet for a moment longer before rolling off and onto his back. You instantly regretted it – it felt like cutting off a limb and you were cold and confused. In desperation, you climbed on top of him, secured your arms around his waist and tucked your head under his chin. You expected some snide remark from him but his hands were immediately on you, coaxing into your back and he nuzzled your forehead.

It was then you noticed his belt was still around his neck. You sat up and quickly removed it, tossing it aside.

“Are you all right?” You found yourself asking again. Ivar looked a shade paler but he nodded. You couldn’t understand why you were acting this way, but you found yourself petting his face, ran your fingers through his hair before giving him a chaste kiss.

You sat beside him and took each of his hands to remove his braces. You massaged both of his wrists, certainly stiff from having been bound for so long. Ivar watched you quietly as you did so, didn’t even budge when you moved to fully undress him. You removed the binder from his legs and pulled his pants off, if anything, he seemed relieved to be free of one less entrapment.

You were busy getting him tucked under a blanket when he tutted at you.

“Stop fussing, woman, let me hold you.” His voice was hoarse but he was clearly returning to normal, making you smile.

For the first time that night, you did as told and cuddled up to him under the blanket. He drew your leg over him and folded his arms around you, pressing light kisses over your forehead. There were a thousand thoughts running through your head about what just occurred, a thousand more things you wanted to say but didn’t have the strength to.

You closed your eyes and listened to Ivar’s steady breathing. His hands never settled on one spot, continually moved to caress you from part to part. And soon your mind was vacant again, nothing but Ivar. All there was was Ivar.


End file.
